The Flames that Engulfed Us

Chapter 47: My Witty Banter Fails (Surprisingly)

Char moved towards me, trying to step around me. I felt bad because she looked so feeble, but I looked down at my wrist, remembering the strength of which she'd grabbed it, and I still felt bad. She was doing her job, but Lincoln meant more to me than whatever crap she had going on.

Lincoln put his hand absentmindedly in mine, but he was looking somewhere else. Mr. Devil. I didn't even look to see what was happening there, only focusing on the woman in front of me.

"Move, dear." She cooed.

"See, I feel like your going to offer me cookies, and honestly I wouldn't say no." I smiled at her.

"I don't offer strangers cookies." She looked genuinely confused.

"But I mean, I do take food bribes extremely seriously. I mean, I obviously wouldn't take one now, but for future reference, I will do almost anything for good food. Just saying."

"I'm not going to give you food. Why are you so interested in food?"

"I don't know," I murmured, suddenly embarrassed with my attempt at banter.

She tried to move around me, but I stood in front of her. She went to push me aside, but I just smiled.

"I can't let you touch him."

"I know, but you also know I have orders. You wouldn't do anything to hurt a poor old lady, would you dear?"

"She's playing the little old lady card. I don't know what to do. I know I can't let her win, but she looks so sweet." I taunted mockingly.

"I'm not sweet, dear. I'm just terribly outmatched for you. It's not fair really, how life passes you by."

She's playing you. She's playing you. She's playing you. Don't fall for it. But I was falling. I needed to do something to make myself made at her or at least apathetic.

"At least you had a life."

"Ah. It's so sad, isn't it? Pity about you two."

"Don't pity me. You don't deserve to pity me." I whispered. She was hitting me in all the right places.

"Deserve. That's a big word, isn't it? Especially for someone who couldn't even find happiness when it was shoved down your throat. You think he makes you happy, but trust me. Men don't make women happy. They make women pregnant maids. I do pity you. So young and stupid, but you'll never grow up to be old and wise. Maybe that's better because you won't regret who you are now."

"You are depressing."

"I see why Joe likes you. He always did like the people with youth and hope."

She made a jab to force herself past me, but I moved quicker, my back shifting so it was against Lincoln's. She fell silent for a minute and I was aware of the devil talking.

"You know what. Get her. I've got him." Mr. Devil said smoothly.

"Why don't you come with me now, dear. It'll be alright for you."

"For me? For me? You think that I'm here because I care about me? What about him?"

"You'll forget. Or not. It doesn't really matter to me."

C.C. started moving behind Char, so she didn't see him.

"It matters to me though," I told her.

"That's a shame. I have a job that I like. You're not going to mess anything up for me."

C.C.'s hands were on her wrists, gently pulling them behind her. I made eye contact with both, her surprised, and him making so many choices he didn't like. Char didn't cry out or anything. He pushed her in a couch and stood next to it, gently pushing her back down when she occasionally tried to stand.

I held Lincoln's hand tightly, turning so I was next to him.

"Don't touch her," Lincoln muttered.

"You've said that."

"I swear to whoever you want that I don't care what you do to me so long as she's warm and happy and safe and all that."

"Preferably next to you, right? Where you can see her and talk to her. You have unrealistic expectations."

"No, he doesn't," I said, making both of them look at me.

"You. You're a thing all by yourself. You're messing everything up. I've always enjoyed humans, but you—you're too much. You realize this whole system, the entire order, is meant to be comfortable to you, right? I could just throw you all in a heap of confusion, but I don't want to. I want to see how you think you have a nature of bad and good. I want to have some of you have a nice time in heaven, or at least the ones who can. I have a system to that too. But you. No matter what I do, you're going to tear it all apart. Free will after death is a novelty you know. I don't like toying with that. It's a tricky business, but I could. I want you to know that I could."

"Monologue much?" I muttered, wishing I could sink into a puddle.

"You're cute. You talk and make jokes, and I hate you. You always seem so happy just to be in the same room as him. It's disgusting. I'll figure out what to do with you, and it will be fun. For me. Not for you. You realize, part of the fun of this whole thing is that he, the Soul, thinks he deserves whatever I throw at him. Humans are so silly. None of you deserve anything. Not a thought. Not a glance, but you think you deserve plans of how to torture you? I only do it for fun. You don't deserve it."

"No. You won't. And you're right. We don't deserve anything from you or anybody else. Good or bad. Just leave us alone."

"You can't control me, Angel, but I can control you."

I felt myself lose control. Not like a meltdown or anything, but just that I became cold to myself. My hand, seeming to have a mind of its own, pulled itself roughly away from Lincoln's. I opened my mouth, but it wasn't my voice that came out. It was his.

"I can control her. I can control all of you. Don't push me." He-I-weird-thing said. Then, like a loser, I went slack and passed out. I hoped Lincoln caught me. I could only hope.